Homecoming

HOMECOMING

© 2015 BY SUSAN X MEAGHER

THIS EBOOK ORIGINAL IS PUBLISHED BY BRISK PRESS, BRIELLE, NJ 08730

COVER DESIGN AND LAYOUT BY: CAROLYN NORMAN

EDITED BY: LINDA LORENZO

FIRST PRINTING: MAY 2015

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, AND INCIDENTS ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALES IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

THIS BOOK, OR PARTS THEREOF, MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION

ISBN (13) 978-0-9899895-7-2

Novels

Arbor Vitae
All That Matters
Cherry Grove
Girl Meets Girl
The Lies That Bind
The Legacy
Doublecrossed
Smooth Sailing
How to Wrangle a Woman
Almost Heaven
The Crush
The Reunion
Inside Out
Out of Whack
Homecoming

Serial Novel

I Found My Heart In San Francisco

Awakenings: Book One
Beginnings: Book Two
Coalescence: Book Three
Disclosures: Book Four
Entwined: Book Five
Fidelity: Book Six
Getaway: Book Seven
Honesty: Book Eight
Intentions: Book Nine
Journeys:Book Ten
Karma: Book Eleven
Lifeline: Book Twelve
Monogamy: Book Thirteen
Nurture: Book Fourteen
Osmosis: Book Fifteen
Paradigm: Book Sixteen
Quandary: Book Seventeen
Renewal: Book Eighteen

Anthologies

Undercover Tales
Outsiders

I fell in love with the Green Mountain State upon first meeting. I hope the warmth I feel for Vermont and its people shows through in this story.

Jill’s gloved hand settled
on the screen door handle, but didn’t pull. Her fingers dawdled for a while, caressing the layers of paint built up over so many years.

The dim porch-light glowed a lovely golden color, freshening memories of long, summer nights, lightening bugs, games of tag, capture the flag, and too many whiffle ball matches to count. Then, years later, hours spent on the swing, trying to capture someone’s attention while not appearing to. Swiped cigarettes, beer, a little grass. Anything to appear more grown up than they were.

The house throbbed with sound—laughter, music, people trying to be heard over the din, a baby’s cry. Abruptly, the front door swung open and the man standing behind the screen blinked at her. “Jill Henry?”

“Adam?” Shit, this couldn’t be the little boy they’d repeatedly tried to ditch on the way home from school, yet he had the same brick-red hair, owlish glasses, and freckle-filled face.

He pushed the screen wide open, letting her enter. “I was just going out for a smoke. My mom won’t allow it in the house.” Extending the pack, he shook it until one popped up. “Want to join me?”

She did, but not to smoke. Easing into the party by talking to Adam sure did seem like a good idea, but she’d been seen, and when Lisa Byrne locked her beady little eyes on her, Jill knew she had to gut it up and go in.

“I’ll catch you when you come back.” She slapped him on the back as he exited. “Good to see you, Adam.”

“You too. It’s been too damn long.”

As Jill stepped further into the house, her suspicions were confirmed. Even through the warmth of the crowd, those icy eyes cut right through her. Lisa had
clearly
not wanted to invite her.

Shit.

Lisa moved across the room, acting like she owned the place. Strangely, she looked better than she had as a teenager. Being a cold-hearted, controlling, unsmiling jerk must have prevented crow’s feet. She definitely looked older, matronly might have been the better word, but her face was surprisingly youthful.

Lisa stuck her hand out for an unenthusiastic shake. “Jill. We were
sure
you weren’t going to make it.”

You wish
, she wanted to say, but pasted a smile onto her face and added a burst of vigor to the shake. “You look great!” she said, hoping to disarm her with a compliment. “I’d never believe it’s been almost twenty years since we’ve seen each other.”

“Oh, I’ve seen you,” she said coolly. “Or at least your car. You always have a nice one.”

“Where…?” Jill never went to any of the businesses in town. How would Lisa be able to pick her out in a moving car?

“Your parents’ driveway,” Lisa said. “I always take a look at the houses of people I know. Kind of a neighborhood watch thing.”

There was a reason they called her the town crier. If a tree fell on Chester Road, Lisa heard it way over on Middletown. Jill didn’t mention the fact that her parents’ home was up a long, curving drive, with the house difficult to see from the main road. Lisa must have parked and scampered up the hill just to keep her eye on things.

“You should have stopped by. I’m always happy to see an old friend.”

“Oh, you know how it is.” She paused as an evil smile pulled the corners of her mouth up. “Ooo, that’s right. You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have to juggle family obligations. You don’t have kids, right?”

Being sarcastic or passive aggressive wasn’t a good idea, but sometimes it was worth it. “No, I don’t, and I can’t figure out why. I guess I’ve got to double down and try harder.”

“That’s funny,” Lisa said, her expression completely devoid of any amusement. “You’ve still got that sharp wit.”

“I try.” She looked over Lisa’s shoulder, perversely happy about being a few inches taller, and peered around the room. “Where’s Mark hiding?”

“He’s around here somewhere. Maybe with one of the kids. You haven’t met them, have you.” That wasn’t a question. She knew damned well Jill hadn’t.

“Nope. I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me. Excuse me,” she said as she slid past, going deeper into the room. A quick turn had her in the den, where she added her coat to the piles that filled the chairs and sofa.

When she went back into the living room, she scanned the place carefully, getting her bearings. The house had never been large enough for seven kids, two dogs and a bunch of cats whose number rose and fell with the seasons. Tonight it nearly burst at the seams.

All of the furniture had been pushed against the walls, which helped a little, but it was still tough to wade through for a drink. And Jill truly needed a drink. The bar was just ahead, the dining table having been called into service, but she had a hell of a time traversing the short path.

The evening had been warm—for February—but now that Jill was in the fray, she wondered if it hadn’t been the heat billowing from the house that had warmed up the whole neighborhood.

She’d excused herself a few times, grabbed a few waists to create a little space, and guided a couple of kids in the opposite direction to make progress across the room. She was nearly at the dining room table when someone tugged on her pant leg. Looking down, she expected one of the many children scampering around to look up at her. Instead, a striking woman met her puzzled look. Jill squinted to see that she was sitting on a bean-bag chair. Then the woman held up a bottle of vodka and a glass filled with ice and something red. Maybe cranberry juice?

“Are you the bartender?” Jill asked, bending over so she could be heard.

“Yes and no,” she said, her voice low and soft. “When it got crowded, I swiped some supplies and plopped myself down. I’ve been waiting to snag someone I want to talk to.” She jiggled the bottle in her hand. “I’ve got an extra chair…”

After giving way to a guy carrying a crying child, Jill hoped for the best as she turned and dropped what seemed like several feet. She lucked out and hit the beanbag right in its sweet spot, then turned to take a better look.

The ad hoc bartender was cute
.
Really cute. Or maybe sexy was the better descriptor. Shiny, shoulder-length auburn hair, Cupid’s bow mouth, fair skin tinted with a scant amount of blush, and lipstick that was the perfect choice for her skin-tone. As Jill leaned closer, she saw the woman had spent a lot of time making her greenish eyes look deep-set and mysterious. And those lovely eyes were twinkling—at her. The last thing Jill expected was to have a really nice looking woman hit on her at this particular party, but she was game. You had to take your swings when you were up at the plate.

“What am I drinking?” she asked.

The extra glass was placed in her hand, then a healthy measure of vodka splashed over the cubes. “Vodka and cranberry. It’s not very creative, but better than light beer or cheap wine. Lisa was in charge of the bar,” she added, a flicker of distaste flashing across her attractive features.

“What are you in charge of?” Jill took a drink, nearly rolling her eyes in pleasure. She didn’t drink vodka often, but every once in a while you needed something strong to arm you for battle.

“Not much. I appointed myself unofficial greeter. When I see someone get waylaid by her royal pain in the ass, I try to cheer them up.”

Jill looked her over once again, guessing this really attractive woman could cheer a person up quickly. “How many times have you had to do that?”

“You’re the fourth.”

Sticking her hand out to shake, she said, “I’m Jill.”

“I know.” They shook, and she added, “Lizzie.”

“How do you know me?”

“Everyone knows you. You’re the missing Davis. Mark’s abandoned twin.”

Stunned, Jill almost dropped her drink onto her lap. “I am?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, a sly look settling on her face. “Until Lisa ran you off.”

That made her smile. “I think that’s an exaggeration. Mark chose to distance himself. He was a big boy.”

“He’s still not a big boy,” Lizzie said. “He’s got middle child syndrome in the worst way. He didn’t get enough attention from his mom, so he found a wife who treats him like a child. And he laps…it…up.” She stuck her puppy-pink tongue out and licked a stripe up an imaginary object.

Lizzie’d probably had a drink with each of the four people she’d rescued. That wouldn’t normally slow Jill down, but here…at the Davis house? It was bad form to pick up a tipsy stranger at an old friend’s birthday party, wasn’t it? But it was really, really tempting…

“How do you know so much about Mark and his marriage?” Jill asked, trying to keep things neutral until she could be sure the bartender was looking to be picked up. She wouldn’t have had a doubt if Lizzie didn’t look so straight. It wouldn’t be the first time a straight woman had flirted with Jill—either trying to prove she had the nerve or to make a boyfriend jealous. Jill had never played the game. Too complicated.

Lizzie took a long sip of her drink, then set it down on the floor, with Jill reaching out to grab it right before a large shoe stomped on it. With a smirk, she held it up triumphantly. “Saved one.”

“You’ve got great reflexes,” she said, giving Jill an adorably foxy smile. “Is that from playing whiffle ball all summer?”